


More Than I Deserve

by Unscriptedtimetraveler



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 20:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unscriptedtimetraveler/pseuds/Unscriptedtimetraveler
Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves you after all he's done as the Winter Soldier (takes place in Romania post Winter Soldier and before the events of Civil War





	More Than I Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> A/n:This was a fic I partially wrote a very long time ago, but I found it in my drafts recently and decided to completely rewrite it. Please read through the warnings. Comments and feedback are always appreciated.
> 
> Warnings: Extreme Angst. Contains references to panic attacks/helping with panic attacks, insecurities, self hatred, crying, brief yelling brief mentions of death, trauma, and faint implications to themes of suicide. Themes of anxiety/anxiety attacks, depression, and PTSD. There is also a very brief reference to “intimacy” if you look and squint extremely hard.
> 
> Please don’t hesitate to reach out to a trusted adult, friend, family member, etc if you are struggling or need help.

Bucky believed he was the farthest thing from a good man. He was an ex-assassin, a man who stole the lives of many and destroyed the lives of who ever survived. He separated families, spilled blood, and carried out commands that would make even the worst people retreat back in horror. He couldn’t be the man who could make you happy. In his mind, he was a damaged man with an even more damaged brain that didn’t deserve an ounce of your love.

You knew his story. Not all of it, not the gritty and gruesome details, but you knew enough to know that he wasn’t the one who wanted to do those things. Bucky was a puppet, a man tortured and manipulated to the point of losing himself. He was an innocent man that was stolen and hidden away to do bad things. They broke his brain, then his spirit, and finally his heart.   
You were able to see behind the walls he built before he quickly threw them back up again.

When he came home from today’s trip to the market, the same negative thoughts that plagued him returned when his eyes landed on you, his loving partner, in the kitchen chopping away at vegetables for tonight’s dinner. 

He silently stood, his grip on the bags of produce tightening before you turned to him with a bright smile on your face. Setting down the knife and wiping your hands, you walked over to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his scruffy cheek. “Hi sweetheart. Are you hungry? Dinner is almost ready, I just need to finish the stew and we can eat.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You smiled softly, and he hoped you wouldn’t be able to tell how tense he was.   
\-----  
You now sat across from Bucky after serving him a bowl of freshly made stew. He wanted to help you more and felt guilty for not being around to prepare dinner with you, but like usual you sad it was nothing to worry about. You didn’t tell him your plans before heading out, and in a way, you wanted to make him a nice surprise meal to come home to. 

It wasn’t uncommon that you stayed over at his place for multiple days at a time. You enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was just holding one another on the mattress on the floor or reading while he wrote in his journals. The two of you didn’t go out often, but honestly, you didn’t mind. He was working through a lot and if he wasn’t comfortable spending a lot of time out in town, that was okay. You had been in plenty of relationships that consisted of such outing, but they never made you feel as loved or cared as Bucky made you feel. 

Dipping your spoon back into your bowl, you scooped some of the stew up before talking to Bucky, “So how was the market today? Did you have a good time?”

As you blew on your spoonful, Bucky licked his lips, “It was good...I brought home some of the berries you like...and those little apples you sometimes use for baking…”

His words were soft, but you could tell they were laced with stress. Along with that, you noticed that Bucky’s bowl was hardly touched. He’d usually be on his second helping by now. 

“Thank you Bucky, I appreciate it,” you took a bite, the warmth of the meal soothing you, “Is everything alright though. Did something happen while you were out?”

Bucky shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. It was the truth. Nothing had happened while he was out, nothing less than his usual thoughts anyways. 

When he looked up at you, he felt his nerves tighten and his heart constrict.

He loved you. He wasn’t even sure if he still knew what love was before he met you. He assumed Hydra must have beaten that out of him too, so when you came into his life, to say he was confused was an understatement. But here you were, still sitting across from him, eating a homemade meal that you made to share with him and looking at him with concern in your eyes. He didn’t deserve to be cared about. He didn’t deserve you, this meal, your kisses or hugs or late night whispers as he held you close and you played with his hair. He didn’t deserve you waking him up in the morning with kisses pressed to the top of his nose, your warm hands on his chest tracing his scars before kissing them too. He didn’t deserve your kindness, he didn’t deserve your care. He sure as hell wasn’t worthy enough to be considered anything but a waste of space, but you loved him.   
And you didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone like him.

Bucky hadn’t brought you romantic evenings or expensive bouquets of flowers. Instead, he brought you a burden. Himself.   
You were an angel, his angel, but you didn’t deserve to be trapped here with a monster like him. You should be free, cut from the ball and chain that he was. In his mind you deserve a happy home where you could seek comfort and feel safe. You belonged in a home that didn’t have newspapers spread all over the windows, weapons stored under window sills and behind furniture in case someone came after him, or a place that at least had decent furniture, or furniture at all. 

Most of all though, Bucky thought you needed someone better than him. He wasn’t a stranger to affection, but he was still wary about it. Kisses, cuddles, even simple gestures like holding hands took months for him to even accept and even longer for him to return. Bucky was a selfish man, taking all that you gave to him and returning with hardly anything at all. 

“Bucky baby, you’re shaking...Bucky!”

Your voice pulled him out from the depths of his mind. He didn’t realize that he was staring at the table for some time. His spoon slid from his hand and clanked against the rim of his bowl. Droplets splashed out onto the table.

Sliding your chair out, you rushed over to him. This wasn’t the first time he’d had an anxiety attack and it wouldn’t be the last.   
“Bucky, can you look at me? Sweetheart look at me.”

You gave him space, but he still backed away as if your skin was on fire and you were going to burn him.

“No. Please.”

“Buck-”

“No!” 

His heart was knocking against the inside of his chest and his lungs were being squeezed. He regretted raising his voice. Why did he raise his voice. Another reason why he wasn’t good enough for you, what kind of person yells at their partner when they’re only trying to help? 

You were gentle once more, “Bucky, can you...can you tell me five things you see? Remember what we did last time? Five things, any five things you can see, sweetheart.”

His breathing was far from leveling out, but he tried, he tried hard to focus on things he could see.

Red thermos. Black notebook on the counter. His hat on the wall. Cinder block shelves. You, he always saw you.  
“Now four things you can touch baby.”

Worn denim jeans. Wooden table. The tips of his hair. The crumpled napkin he’d used.

You moved closer to him as he slumped into the chair, “Good job, baby, you’re doing so well. Can you tell me three things you can hear?”

Your voice, your soft voice calling him back from his personal hell. The leaky faucet in the kitchen. The low rumble of the deteriorating heater.

“Two things you can can smell now, Bucky.” 

The musty scent of the apartment he, and you now, called home. Your scented lotion that you constantly had on.  
“Good job sweetheart. Now finally, one thing you could taste.”

Easy. The meal you had worked so hard on lingered on his lips, the meal he was now ruining with his stupid feelings.”

By now, he’d calmed down considerably now, but his chest was still heaving a bit. You let him have a few more moments of silence before continuing to comfort him.

“I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

He cast his eyes away from you again, and you figured he didn’t want to talk about it. But, he surprised you and simply mumbled, “I don’t deserve you.”

“What are you-”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Bucky-”

“I don’t deserve you!” he said more intensely this time. He rubbed his hand across his cheek, “You should be with someone else. You need to go find someone who can take care of you and doesn’t drag you down.

Tears stung your eyes as you knelt down and looked up at him, “Baby. Listen to me. You do deserve me, and you do take care of me. You’re the only person I want Bucky.”

You tenderly reached out to him. Gentle and warm fingertips graced against his skin, but he didnt retreat this time. He fell into your touch, welcomed it. He felt himself be tethered back to you again.

“I’m not good. I told you doll, I’ve hurt people. Killed ‘em right where they stood. All those people are dead because of me. It’s all my fault.I don’t even remember who I used to be. I have nightmares and yell and break down more than any normal person should, because hell, I’m nowhere near normal. I hurt you. I always hurt you...” His voice lowered, “...And them. It’s not fair to them, that I get to keep on breathing with all the things I’ve done. I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t even be alive, doll.”

Tears fell down your cheeks now. You tried your best to hold them in, to show that you could be calm for him, but you couldn’t. Not when he was saying such horrible things about himself. He’d come a long way from the man in the stories of his past, but he was still healing. To hear that the man you loved and cared for though he was nothing, deserved nothing, deserved to not even be granted a chance at living a happy life, or a life at all, was tearing you apart. He was your everything, but he couldn’t see that. Bucky was blinded by his self hatred and guilt to see any spark of goodness within himself. 

He felt bad for making you cry. Like he said, he always did hurt you in the end. He wanted to comfort you and apologize for his faults, but before he could even utter a word, you cut him off.

“Bucky, listen to me. You are not him, not anymore. What they did to you wasn’t your fault.”

“But I still killed them.”

“They made you kill those people. Those monsters are the ones at fault, not you. The Bucky I know wouldn’t have even considered doing such a thing. You are a good man. They hurt you and made you do things against your will, but Bucky, that wasn’t really you.” 

“I don’t deserve you though. You deserve a nice house and a nice partner that can get you nice things. You should be able to go on dates and be intimate with you. I can’t even give you physical affection some of the time because of my fucked up brain.”

“I already have everything I want with you sweetheart. I don’t need a ton of fancy things to know I’m loved. We can spend an evening here and I’d be the happiest person because I’d be spending that time with the man I love. And Bucky, you give me all that you can, and that is enough. It doesn’t matter if it takes time or it’s not as frequent, I want you to do so when you are comfortable and able. You give me all the wonderful things I could ever ask for, and I just hope I can give you the same,” you replied.

Bucky swallowed hard, the thoughts of pushing you away from him still on his mind, “Of course you do, doll. You give me everything but I return nothing. I’m broken, I don’t remember a lot about my past and I’m still not too great at remembering things now. I’m not good-”

“You are good. I know you don’t believe that you are, but Bucky, you are. Deep down inside you are good. And yes, you have your struggles and your traumas, but I want to help you heal. You are not broken, you are healing,” you rubbed your thumbs over his knuckles as his grip on your hand squeezed tighter, “I love you, Bucky. I love you. Please don’t push me away, please let me help you and love you and show you how wonderful of a person you are. You deserve nice things too.”

Bucky cried for the first time in a long time that night. It wasn’t like you had never seen him cry before, it was just a rare occurrence. He’d been conditioned to bundle every fear and emotion he had into a tight package to be stuffed away and never opened again, but around you, he’d slowly, very slowly, learned to let some of it bleed out.

But tonight it was like you pulled the door of the dam lose, causing everything to spill out in a weird but relieving way. He came off his chair and sunk into the floor with you, his arms aching to just selfishly hold you in his own, almost like he was still unsure if it was okay. You ran your hands up and down his back and torso in comfort as he wept loudly into your shirt.

He still thought he didn’t deserve you, but you knew it would take time to make him fully understand. This was just a small stepping stone in a large pond.

Dinner end early that night but you didn’t mind. You made sure he had enough to eat before cleaning up. He silently helped you put away the leftovers, tucking the little plastic tupperwares into the fridge. He insisted that he ruined dinner and that he was so, so sorry, but you simply reassured him that he did nothing wrong with gentle kisses. 

Now you were in bed cuddled next to one another on the mattress with a soft blanket keeping the two of you warm. His hair was still damp from his bath earlier and cool to the touch. His arms were now around you while you were pressed to his chest.  
“How are you feeling?” you whispered. 

Bucky was silent for a few moments before he said, “Better. I’m sorry about earlier.”

You replied by cuddling closer and pressing more soft kisses to his stubbly chin, “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. I’m happy that you shared your feelings with me.”

Bucky didn’t argue back or say that he was wasting your time, ruining the mood or even undeserving of you, not out loud at least. He pulled you into a gentle kiss. His hands held you comfortably snug, but not too tight. Your warmth radiated onto him, bringing him a comforting contrast to the harsh cold conditions that Hydra had forced him to endure. You were sweet, kind, and offered to help him in his worst moments unlike Hydra who offered nothing but more torture to his aching soul in exchange for the deeds they made him do. Your lips were soft and tasted faintly of something sweet, vanilla or honey perhaps. Whatever it was, he liked it a lot. It reminded him of the scattered memories of his past and the idea of a gentle home. 

Bucky thought he was a monster. A criminal. A murderer who deserved nothing short of death itself. He thought he didn’t deserve a second chance while the cost of many others lingered in his mind, and it would take him a while, if not forever, to finally start to accept that he was capable of being a good man, of believing he was a good man. There were still pieces of him that were locked away and out of reach. 

But with you by his side, he could at least start to try believing that he too deserved things too.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading


End file.
